The team was on a highly classified mission: infiltrate the biggest intergalactic gala in the universe without drawing too much attention to themselves in order to find a mysterious informant. And besides Hunk’s minor wardrobe malfunction revolving around his refusal to remove his well-worn, sweat-soaked orange headband, everything was going as planned; everyone was staying under the radar. But, as always, luck has a tendency to run out. 

After a series of quick dodging motions along the edges of a large buffet table to avoid a wandering, overbearing alien maiden on the hunt, Keith finds himself accidentally (and very awkwardly) standing in the middle of the crowded dance floor. As they whirl past, guests start to stare, and Lance, catching a glimpse of the frozen paladin, chokes on his beverage and shifts into panic mode. Forgoing any sense of formality, he tosses his drink over his shoulder, bolts across the room and grabs hold of Keith, tugging them both into the rhythm of the swarm of swirling couples.

“Umm, hey– Kogane!? Look alive, we need to blend in, remember??” Lance hisses in a shouting whisper, brow furrowed. Keith begins to protest but suddenly feels himself being dipped backwards, one foot flung upwards in a struggle to maintain balance. “Lance!? What are you-” “Shh, listen!,” Lance squints, giving the room a side-eye glance. “I think I’ve got a lead…”